I contacted Aunt Jennifer again towards the end of 1995 and I
was really surprised by the effort she made in her replying to the
letter. It wasn’t the normal run of the mill scrap piece of paper
that I had received from so many so called professionals with the
normal scribble boob measurements and fee. It was a letter laying out
exactly the service she gave and exactly what I was to expect to the
letter if I dared visit her. Shortly after receiving the letter I
made a phone call to her and ordered a video (They hadn’t increased
in price at all) which had her spanking her long suffering secretary
Peterkins for having a bad school report and wearing Matrons knickers
(Original). I phoned her again, talked for hours, (As you do)
And thus arranged a visit.
At this time I was very new and was scared of what I was
doing or what I was into. It had come to the crunch, I was in my late
20s and I had had a lifetime’s involvement of fantasies surrounding
spanking, but had done little to make things better for myself. This
February day in 1996 was going to change this once and for all.
I spent most of the morning like a tit in a trance wandering
around Brighton more with a worried expression on my face as if I was
just about to visit the dentist to have my wisdom teeth out. At one o
clock I made my way to Salt dean to her house knocked on her door as
you do and was invited in, by this kindly Lady whose name was Aunty
Jennifer.
After stroking the dogs, going to the living room, and
exchanging pleasantries, I gave her a brown envelope with the fee in
it, which had now gone up to £80 (now that’s inflation for you 30% in
four years) but it did include a video of my day and believe me that
was more that reasonable. Also in the envelope was a note saying
please take it easy do not kill here and me’s the address of my next
to kin in case of any accidents. Aunty Jennifer decided in all her
wisdom as an Aunt, and with great embarrassment on my behalf to read
the letter out allowed, correct the spelling mistakes, and sling the
four twenty pound notes on the table which remained there throughout
my stay. I was now beginning to feel a little bit more at ease with
her knowing that she was a head case as well thus we should get on ok.
I did explain to her that I thought she could have read the
note a little more discreetly. Then again who was I to argue, after
all one should remember their place, especially if they’re just about
to get walloped?
